


Lighter Fluid

by slasher_abyss



Series: ♡ Stabby Men Pretty ♡ [8]
Category: Halloween (2018), Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Light Dom/sub, Morning Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Vaginal Sex, gimme that good kush, gotta get that ass before you get them waffles man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 16:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20195401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slasher_abyss/pseuds/slasher_abyss
Summary: You wake up one morning to a still-sleeping Michael, and decided you wanted to see if he was tired enough to be topped for once... curious, very curious...I couldn't be bothered to concoct some poetic title so here





	Lighter Fluid

**Author's Note:**

> **  
_A/N: If making titles was a cuisine I’d suck at cooking._  
**
> 
> **Warnings: NSFW, frozen waffles.**  
Words: 1700+  
. . .

**  
** The sun shines sluggishly through the dark curtains, just scarcely able to brighten the blackness of your bedroom. While it is a pitiful effort to lighten up the place it still succeeds in waking you, and much too early for your tastes on a Saturday. It takes you a while to come around even with the disturbance of UV, but an insomniac by nature, you eventually will yourself to get up. Well, at least you _attempted_ to.**  
**

The moment you stretched and started moving around, the heavy arm that had been draped over your hip tightened around your waist, holding you in place. The corners of your lips twitched upwards into a lazy smile, you allowed your body to relax once more as you were tugged against a familiar front. Michael was still there. Must’ve had a rough night to still be asleep and in bed with you.

You pressed yourself back into him, your smaller form fitting into the angle of his. You felt around for the arm around your middle and traced your fingertips down his wrist to slide a hand over Michael’s large one. No doubt he was awake, he was an incredibly light sleeper, and any slight movement could wake him. Getting up for bathroom breaks with him wrapped around you at night were difficult endeavors.

Not wanting to miss your chance to coax him back to sleep before he woke up more you turned in is grip and wrapped yourself around him, letting his head rest against your chest. Michael re-adjusted himself to lean a bit more into you before you felt him start to nod off again. You exhale contentedly, trying not to move too much more in fear of waking him again, it wasn’t that he would act differently towards you, you just wanted him to get his rest. And you know how hard it is for Michael to sleep sometimes.

Despite the annoying rays of sun that still sept blearily through the gap between the curtains, you felt your eyes start to blur as you were slowly coaxed back to sleep. You didn’t try to fight it, you would be there for a while regardless with the tight grip around your middle.

. . .

You wake up to the feeling of moving limbs and shifts in the bed. You try to blink the film of sleep out of your eyes to see properly, but as your body starts processing the feeling of Michael’s hand at your waist and the way he’s pulled you further against him, it’s easier to put two and two together. You repress a yawn behind your teeth and stretch under the twisted covers as Michael stops moving. You don’t expect your leg to be grabbed and hiked over his hip though, so the feeling elicits a sharp gasp from you before you feel Michael’s bare throbbing flesh against the cradle of your hips, brushing against your smooth inner-thighs.

You hum deep in your throat and your leg squeezes itself tighter around Michael’s hip and pulls his length in closer to press up against your heat through the thin cotton fabric of your panties.

God, he feels so good pressed up against you like that. You roll your hips into his and a hand jerks to your hip to either halt the repetition of the action or hold you still, but you manage to gyrate against his hard cock once more before he gets the chance, and so instead he ends up simply grabbing your hip and thrusting forward to meet your next roll.

You can hear his ragged and strained breathing coming in harsh, gruff pants behind clenched teeth. The rubber mask of white-flesh that practically remained glued to Michael’s face laid half-way off of the bedside table, clearly carelessly discarded in his haste to get under the covers with you and sleep off his constant chronic migraines. Aside from the point, though, you are just glad to see his real face as he ground himself against you, which was normally how sex started out between you.

He’s being awfully patient today, maybe you won’t be too sore later.

Interpreting his uncharacteristic lagging as a sign of submission, you don’t pass up the chance to roll on top of him. He grunts briskly, but otherwise has no negative reaction to it, so you continue. Your panties are gone a moment later, and you didn’t quite remember or process if he or you had taken them off, but that didn’t matter, none of that mattered right now.

You aligned his head with your drooling entrance and sank down onto his cock with a pleasured sigh of relief as he stretched you, pushing against your walls and creating just the right amount of friction to leave you weak in the knees. Michael manages to stay entirely silent for the first couple of thrusts and experimental bounces, which was unusual, but as soon as you got a good rhythm going he was already trying to speed it up. To take back some dominance.

You weren’t going to let him just yet.

To Michael’s surprise, you pushed his hands away from your body. You know you can’t hold him down with your own strength, but perhaps you could somehow convince him to keep his hands to himself for a while. Questions, so many questions, and only a few seconds to consider your next words- or rather, next demand.

“You keep these hands to yourself, or I stop.” You want to believe you had the willpower to actually stop now that you’ve started going, but hopefully, it convinces him at least… because if he doesn’t, you might just have to prove him wrong. And the grief that sliding him out of you now would cause would be agonizing.

Michael’s darkened eyes are glaring into yours with a kind of anger that should scare you, but instead, it only spurs you on more. You can see the gears turning in his head and the frustration radiating from his heaving form, but the resistance against your hands around his wrists releases. You push his arms above his head and lean back, trusting him to keep them there as you braced your hands on his chest and adjusted your weight onto your knees.

You lifted your hips back up and let out a content sigh as you sunk back down onto his throbbing cock. You can feel the muscles in his thighs tensing and releasing with restraint, it’s kind of hot thinking about how hard it must be for him not thrust upwards. Michael growls deep in his chest as you circle one of his nipples with your index finger, and the vibrating rumbles of the sound underneath your palms cause you to squeeze your quivering walls around him with a shudder of veiled delight. Michael was rarely vocal unless you edged him long enough, and pleasure-deprivation was something he never handled well.

you rarely were given the opportunity to really draw those noises out before he was flipping you over and using you like a doll designed specifically for his self-pleasure. And while that was all fine and dandy and you got almost just as much out of it as he did, you’d always wanted to flip the coin for once, to lay him back and let yourself do all the work for a change.

You begin to pick up your pace from slow, languid strokes, to shallow, and quick thrusts as you already begin to approach your peak. Michael’s clenched fingers twitched and scratched at the cool sheets, the strong itch to touch you beginning to wear away at the impressive wall of self-restraint that kept him grounded as you bounced on his lap in eagerly. The fact that he could tell you were close forced a shudder down his spine and shoved out another harsh grunt from his throat. Somehow, refraining himself from making noise and moving was intensifying his sensitivity.

You were getting a bit louder yourself, uneven breaths melting into harsh gasps and your soft moans were starting to increase in pitch and frequency. Your burning muscles were starting to tense and lock up, and your arms could no longer support the suddenly heavy weight of your upper half. You let yourself lean forward to lay over him and bury your face in his collarbone, your teeth grazing the skin there and your noises buzzing pleasantly against his jugular.

Michael’s hands are tearing the sheets now, hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned a snowy white, even starting to bruise under the pressure of his grasp. His breath came out in muffled, choppy groans as he struggled to keep his noises behind his chattering teeth. You shift when his hips buckle ever so slightly, and the change in angle causes his tip to bump into your g-spot, your eyes spiral out of focus as your walls contract and then clench around his cock as your orgasm overwhelms every muscle and nerve capable of disabling you.

Michael grunts under the increased pressure around his hardened flesh and in the midst of frustration he gives in. His hands fly away from the torn sheets and dig into your slowing hips. You moan as he begins to take over your movements, sitting up and bouncing you on his lap once, twice, three times– and then he groans deeply as he spills himself inside of you, hips snapping up into yours with weak, jerky thrusts to ride out his release before you both sink into the mattress.

You sigh into his chest as your hazily buzzing mind begins to come around as your body slowly recovers from the onslaught of bliss, You were never particularly a morning sex person before meeting Michael, but you sure as hell’ve learned to love it now. But the warmth that was once comforting was becoming unbearably hot, your bodies were slick with sweat that rubbed your skin raw with every sliding movement. You kicked the rest of the blanket off of the bed and rolled over on Michael’s side, shifting on top of the damp— and now torn- sheets.

“Breakfast?”

A grunt.

“Waffles?”

Another grunt.

You smile and roll off of the bed and search around for a shirt, the frozen waffles in the freezer calling your name.


End file.
